


él te espera (y yo me quedo aquí)

by taeyongsan



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Night Stands, One-Sided Attraction, Unhappy Ending, and markyong are brothers, they're technically ex-best friends, unhappy end for yutae only
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeyongsan/pseuds/taeyongsan
Summary: It’s been awhile since Taeyong last saw Yuta and it’s difficult finding their rhythm again. Drinking helps and Taeyong finds Yuta shared the same feelings. Or at least, he thought so. Taeyong cuts Yuta out of his life, finding comfort in someone else. Yuta stops trying and then one day, he shows up at Taeyong’s doorstep with an apology on his lips.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong, Lee Taeyong/Nakamoto Yuta, Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Kudos: 20





	él te espera (y yo me quedo aquí)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written, posted, and then deleted this fic earlier this year but many have asked me if I could repost it so I am doing just that!
> 
> The title of the fic is a slightly altered lyrics from [this](https://open.spotify.com/track/0epxoQWFQr9os8jbiqBGs5) song. The chapter title is also a lyric from this song.
> 
> This fic was a gift to my very lovely friend. Thank you for giving me a vague prompt and letting me run wild with it. I hope everyone that reads this enjoys!

He had known Yuta for nearly fifteen years.

He remembered their first few meetings in small glimpses only. Awkward greetings and fleeting looks, both of them unaware of how to act around one another. Their later meetings were more prominent in his mind. After they had gotten over the awkwardness and found things in common, stumbling over their words to reach out and try to form a friendship. Yuta’s smiles and laughs came easily, the confidence in his tone growing the more time they spent together. Taeyong had also been a shy, quiet kid but being around Yuta had brought him out of his shell more and more. Both of them, lifting each other up and holding their ground once they let go, becoming confident, independent people.

Taeyong left his parents’ house years ago but he’s sure his mother has a photo album with pictures of them somewhere―heat-damaged hair from styling in desperate need of a cut, red acne spotted and slightly fuller faces, the last few remnants of naive happiness glimmering in their eyes, and all the unnecessary confidence that came with being around their best friend, more brave together than they were separately. It was embarrassing and made Taeyong cringe inwardly when he visited his childhood home, seeing photos here and there as a constant reminder of who he’d been before.

He was much different now. His confidence came from different things. Taeyong was a great cook, a tidy person, a good pet owner, a hard worker, and he had taken care of his appearance. It made Taeyong feel confident. He no longer needed to have someone beside him to feel brave about taking risks. He took risks because he knew he could come out on top now. It was that confidence he held in his hands, grasping onto it tightly and unwilling to let go.

Taeyong didn’t do things needlessly. He’d learned that from Doyoung, who was concise and absolutely perfect. Meeting someone like Doyoung was freeing in a way Taeyong had never known. In his time with Yuta, Taeyong was a bit more reckless. They were kids, slowly transitioning into young adults, and too curious for their own good. But they were supposed to get into a bit of trouble, weren’t they?

But once Taeyong got the trouble out of his system, he’d met Doyoung. Doyoung was beautiful in a graceful way. His long, slender fingers were gentle as they ran across Taeyong’s skin, setting him aflame underneath pale moonlight. Doyoung’s lips were full and soft, swollen from kissing but still insistent as they pressed against his neck, down, down, down Taeyong’s body. And his voice was heavenly, words chosen carefully each time he spoke, barely heard murmurs against Taeyong’s chest, his hot, wet breath making Taeyong shiver.

The feeling of being pressed down into a soft mattress, breaths stolen under the cover of darkness, shaking and teetering, threatening to come out in intoxicating moans―it was something Taeyong enjoyed, something he longed for.

Still, being with Doyoung, or anyone else for that matter, never felt the same as being with Yuta. In their time together, they had never crossed the line. They had not even come close to it. But that’s not to say Taeyong hadn’t wanted to.

Oh God, had he wanted to. Despite knowing too many embarrassing things about Yuta and having seen him at his worst, Taeyong wanted nothing more than to take him and love him. He wanted to show Yuta how beautiful he was, in the most innocent of ways. But Taeyong had never been brave on his own back then.

The words of praise died on his tongue every time. He didn’t know how Yuta would feel should he say them. What if it only drove Yuta away?

Taeyong wouldn’t have been able to handle it. Looking back now, he realized he was entirely dependent on Yuta, almost to the point where it was pathetic. Holding himself back for so many years to keep his friendship with Yuta safe was painful but at least Taeyong could say that he had kept Yuta in his life.

At least, for a while. Even if they had known each other fifteen years, they had been in each other’s life for maybe seven. Their friendship had waned during their university careers. Yuta’s family had returned to Japan after Yuta graduated high school, and Taeyong had remained alone. Their conversations during their university careers were still full of excitement and chatter but towards the end, they spoke less and less, only catching each other on social media posts. Then Yuta had returned to South Korea for a job. It allowed a rekindling of sorts for some years but then… Yuta left again.

How long had it been since he had seen Yuta? Four, three―

“Two years is too long,” Yuta said.

Taeyong met Yuta’s eyes. They were nothing like Doyoung’s. Yuta was too much of an open book, always vulnerable and unguarded. Doyoung never let Taeyong know what he was thinking this way. With Doyoung, Taeyong had to pick and choose questions to unravel Doyoung. With Yuta, Taeyong only had to look into his eyes. And he could see the hurt, the excitement, the hungry desire.

“It has been,” Taeyong answered, clearing his throat. “But you were in Japan taking care of business.”

“Yeah, well, you still could’ve called,” Yuta joked, a brilliant smile breaking out over his face. It had been two long years since Taeyong had seen it in front of him and not from a screen on his phone. “I missed you, man.”

“Yeah,” Taeyong said. He cleared his throat, setting down his glass. “How’s your mom?”

“You want to ask me about my mom now? Really?”

They didn’t talk about her.

Yuta moved the conversation to what he’d been doing in Japan the last couple years. He’d gone to help his sister with her business. Momoka always wanted to own her own restaurant but a surprise pregnancy hadn’t been in her plan. She had a daughter now, almost a year-old. Yuta showed him a photo and Taeyong saw the resemblance. He’d never seen Momoka’s husband but he’d seen her and the small girl definitely had her nose, her eyes. After that, Yuta went back to himself. He hadn’t done much else, his days filled with running the restaurant while his sister was pregnant and the short months following the birth. He met with old friends he hadn’t seen, going out drinking and to karaoke bars during the weekends to let loose before having to go back to manning the business.

“At least I got free food, right?” Yuta asked.

“Right.”

Somehow, despite the years they had together, Taeyong couldn’t settle into a comfortable pace with Yuta. It was like trying to fit two puzzles pieces that didn’t fit, clearly two pieces of different puzzles. His energy was high and Taeyong wasn’t meeting it. Had two years done that to them? Why couldn’t Taeyong keep up now?

Taeyong was confident and he could be brave. In these two years, Taeyong had grown well into the adult version of himself he always wanted to be. Successful, attractive, charismatic… So, why?

“I’ll get us some more drinks,” he said when they both finished off their beers.

He didn’t drink much, not anymore. Taeyong’s tolerance was low and he hated the feeling of losing control of himself. With Yuta, he hadn’t minded much. They were young and excited to drink. If it went too far, they took care of each other. But when they went their separate ways, Taeyong realized drinking excessively wasn’t as appealing without a comforting presence around him. During nights out on the town, he stopped himself after two or three drinks, wary of his environment and those around him.

Tonight, he’d allow himself to partake, knowing Yuta would encourage him. It was okay tonight.

He returned to the table with two more large glasses of beer. Beer wasn’t Taeyong’s preference but he wasn’t willing to splurge on something more suited to his taste. He wasn’t sure if Yuta would like it.

“So what have you been up to?” Yuta asked, taking a sip of his drink. His gaze was curious. “You don’t post much of anything online.”

Taeyong shrugged. “Just working,” he said. “I don’t go out much anymore besides a few weekends with colleagues here and there.”

“Ah, what happened to my Taeyong?” Yuta’s laugh rang through the bar heartily, joining the boisterous conversations of other patrons around them.

Taeyong didn’t answer, dumbfounded by two words.  _ My Taeyong. _

He shifted in his seat. “I’m not like that anymore, not that much,” he offered quietly.

Had two years done that to him?

“Ah, well―” Yuta sighed, “―it’s okay to let loose sometimes, Taeyong.”

“Yeah.”

Their conversation drifted here and there, moving along slowly as they tried to find that rhythm they had once. It was hard, Taeyong found. Yuta was still bolder than Taeyong. That hadn’t changed. Taeyong didn’t know why he was shrinking into himself like this, making it hard when Yuta was clearly trying to reconnect with him. There had to be something, anything, they could newly bond over. But they had been apart far too long with too little contact. Yuta was moving one hundred miles an hour, speeding down a bare highway in the middle of nowhere, and Taeyong was stuck in traffic, crawling forward at five.

Yuta bought more drinks and Taeyong drank up, hoping to let loose. After some more beer, Yuta returned with smaller glasses filled halfway with an amber-colored liquid. As pretty as the color was, the smell wasn’t appealing. It burned Taeyong’s nose. The taste was no better. It was bitter as it went down his throat and he swallowed with a small grimace.

There were more shots. More and more. And Taeyong drank, greedily picking one after another, throwing them back until he became numb to the feeling.

He wasn’t sure how long they drank but it had worked. Taeyong was catching up to Yuta, a metaphorical hand reaching out to grab him from behind. Yuta looked happy, happier than the last time they had seen each other.

When had that been?

“Taeyong, are you still seeing…” Yuta cleared his throat. For a moment, he looked sobered up, clarity in his eyes. “Are you still seeing him?”

Oh, right.

“No,” Taeyong said. He shrugged and ran the tip of his finger around the rim of his glass. “I mean, not seriously. It was never serious. You know that.”

Doyoung flashed in his mind for a brief moment. Soft lips, gentle hands, a blistering heat scorching his body on cold nights where he was lonely, aching for something, anything. It had only ever been that for Taeyong. Doyoung was something to fill the space and they both knew that. Doyoung used Taeyong to fill the gaps in his chest as well, silently worshipping him with another face in his mind, another name on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, well…”

Taeyong met Yuta’s eyes. Hungry desire.

Had Yuta ever wanted Taeyong? Could it have been possible for them if Taeyong hadn’t been such a coward?

“You want to see my place?” Yuta asked.

“Yeah,” Taeyong breathed, “I’d like that.”

Yuta had never shown Taeyong any interest.

Taeyong had gone through high school seeing girls confess their love for Yuta. Though most were rejected, Yuta had accepted a couple, dating those girls for a short while. During university, when they were separated, Taeyong listened to Yuta speak about his one-night escapades after drinking with friends following final exams. And when Yuta returned, Taeyong spent years watching Yuta take people home from bars on their weekends out, sometimes leaving him behind to find his way home alone. It was those nights where they didn’t take care of each other that sometimes burned in the back of Taeyong’s mind.

Taeyong had never been interested in anyone enough to get into a serious relationship. He had his own one-night stands and recurring flings but those had only ever been physical. Even Doyoung, after nearly three years, was someone Taeyong went to to find physical comfort.

He only ever sought out something physical because no one could ever make Taeyong’s heart swell with an indescribable warmth the way Yuta did.

For as long as Taeyong had wanted Yuta, he had wondered how it would feel to have something more than what they shared already. Yuta would be someone beautiful to come home to, providing safety with his presence. They’d share something sweet, innocent, absolutely wonderful. But apart from loving glances and tender words, Taeyong fantasized about the heat of Yuta’s body pressed against his, hot breath fanning across his bare skin.

It felt wrong to think about Doyoung now yet Taeyong couldn’t help but compare. Doyoung was gentle in his caresses, even gentler with his words, making Taeyong fall apart with practiced ease. Time and time again, Taeyong imagined Doyoung to be Yuta, replacing Doyoung’s soft hands with something more rough, calloused fingertips gripping at his hips. He imagined a more familiar voice, something lower than Doyoung’s, whispering into his ear, praising him over and over again. It was easy to trick himself into thinking Doyoung was Yuta.

When Taeyong cried out Yuta’s name, Doyoung never flinched. After all, he had called Taeyong the wrong name more than once as well. Doyoung never stopped, always pushing Taeyong further, further, further.

“Yuta,” Taeyong moaned.

This time, it was not Doyoung. It was Yuta. It was the right name.

Yuta’s mouth was hot against his neck and his hands were rough in their motions as he tugged at Taeyong’s clothes. He managed to remove Taeyong’s jacket, moving to hitch up his tee-shirt and running his toughened fingers over his stomach, moving to his back and then settling on his hips, thumbs pressing into the skin there.

Taeyong had a fistful of Yuta’s hair in his hand. It was long and still somewhat damaged from the bleach treatments Yuta had done over the years―nothing like Doyoung’s short, silky hair. When he tugged, Yuta let out a guttural sound and Taeyong felt how it vibrated against his neck, shooting down to his cock.

“O-oh my God,” he breathed out, his other hand moving to Yuta’s jaw and pulling him up so they could kiss again.

Nothing would ever compare to the feeling of Yuta’s mouth against his. Warm and wet, too much spit and the taste of too much alcohol, but everything Taeyong wanted and needed. Yuta’s teeth hit his and it hurt but there was no time to focus on it, not when Yuta pulled away, taking Taeyong’s bottom lip between his teeth.

He moved back after a second, pressing himself closer to Taeyong.

Before Taeyong knew it, they were on Yuta’s bed, pulling off the rest of their clothing. Yuta pulled Taeyong’s jeans off, tossing them off to the side, and shimmied out of his own. He came back, pinning Taeyong down, a knee on each side of his waist.

The room was dark but the light of the moon came in, glowing upon Yuta’s left side, illuminating his features softly. But there was nothing soft in Yuta’s gaze.

They kissed some more, hands running over each other, trying to memorize each and every part. Taeyong dug his nails into Yuta’s shoulder blades, gasping as Yuta kissed down his jaw and at his neck once more, sucking and nipping with his teeth, licking over where he bit.

Taeyong was painfully aware his underwear was still on, his dick straining in the fabric. He felt the wetness of his precome begin to soak the front. He dropped one hand to try and palm himself but Yuta caught him by the wrist.

“Let me,” he said.

Yuta pulled down the waistband, revealing Taeyong’s cock, a gasp escaping Taeyong. He wasn’t able to catch his breath because as soon as he pulled it down, Yuta had his fingers wrapped around the base. He moved up and thumbed at the head, sending a wave of pleasure through Taeyong.

“Don’t move.”

Yuta got off him to free Taeyong’s legs before he spread them open and moved to the space between, sitting back on his heels. The lack of touch was enough to make Taeyong whine but Yuta didn’t waste another second, bending down to take Taeyong’s cock into his mouth.

“Yu―A-ah!”

Taeyong put both his hands in Yuta’s hair, tugging. He wasn’t sure if it hurt Yuta but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, quickly losing himself to the pleasure. Yuta’s tongue moved from the base to the tip before the head was taken into his mouth, tongue circling. A hand moved to massage his balls, surprising Taeyong.

The sound was obscene but drowned out by Taeyong’s moans and breathless gasps. He felt his abdomen tighten.

“Yuta, Yuta,” he tried to warn.

Taeyong had always wondered how it would feel to get sucked off by his best friend. In his imagination, Yuta was always on his knees, letting Taeyong fuck into his mouth without care. It was always Taeyong in control. But Yuta had a way of surprising him. Yuta was the one controlling Taeyong.

When Taeyong came, it was in Yuta’s mouth. He gasped, eyes screwing shut as he felt the warmth of his come and Yuta’s mouth around the head of his cock. He had never had an orgasm like it, so blinding and strong. And Yuta had only given him a blowjob.

As he came down from his high, Taeyong tried to push himself a bit further up on his elbows to see Yuta. In the faint light he saw Yuta wiping his mouth with one hand, the other wrapped around Taeyong’s cock, helping him through the last of it. The come mixed with spit that fell from the corner of Yuta’s lips caught the light of the moon, glistening until it was smeared over Yuta’s cheek with a swipe of his hand. 

Yuta took off Taeyong’s underwear the rest of the way, using it wipe any come that landed elsewhere, before he came back up to lay beside Taeyong, who fell back and stared up at the ceiling, chasing his breath. His chest moved up and down with each inhale and exhale. His mind was still hazy.

Taeyong barely acknowledged Yuta when he began to nose at his neck, his breath warm against his collarbone. It took a moment and Taeyong was completely aware that Yuta still needed to be taken care of when Yuta came closer, pressing himself against Taeyong’s side.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Taeyong asked after a long minute.

“It’s fine,” Yuta whispered. He pressed a sticky kiss to the spot behind Taeyong’s ear and then bit at his earlobe, letting go only to whisper: “You said you weren’t seeing him seriously, right?”

Taeyong’s heart fluttered. Yuta wanted this? He  _ truly _ wanted this?

They kissed much slower. Taeyong had sobered up considerably and was able to enjoy it, reveling in the sounds Yuta made as he touched here and there. Yuta moved on top of him again and Taeyong felt his cock begin to harden again. Yuta hadn’t come yet and Taeyong couldn’t imagine how painful it was for him to be strung out this long.

“We―” Taeyong pushed Yuta back a little, a string of saliva connecting them. They were both a bit breathless again. “―We… you can go ahead.”

Yuta leaned in, lips grazing Taeyong’s as he spoke, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Despite the chill air in the room, Taeyong’s body felt on fire. Wherever Yuta’s hands touched, an overwhelming heat built, growing and moving across the rest of his body. His hands were more gentle now but his hold firm. A stuttered breath escaped Taeyong when Yuta’s hand moved to his ass, kneading and squeezing.

They stopped for a moment as Yuta moved away to get the necessary items. Taeyong took the chance to catch his breath.

Yuta hadn’t been overly excited when it came to biting and sucking at his skin and still, Taeyong could feel the slight ache where bruises might begin to form along his neck and across his shoulders and chest. His lips were swollen and bitten, and when he sucked on his bottom lip, a metallic taste filled his mouth. Yuta was leaving Taeyong ruined, slowly and surely.

Taeyong wanted more.

If he had known Yuta wanted this, Taeyong would have been more confident. He would have kissed Yuta on one of those nights where they were studying for a math exam. He would have sent love letters during their time apart. He would have invited Yuta back to his apartment instead of letting Yuta go home with a stranger.

Had Yuta felt this way toward Taeyong for long?

When Yuta returned, he had Taeyong lift his hips to put a pillow underneath. And then he was quick to uncap the lube and squeeze a liberal amount onto his finger. Taeyong braced himself when Yuta moved down, spreading his legs, his hand disappearing. As expected, Taeyong sucked in a quick breath when Yuta’s finger came close. He tried to relax and Yuta pressed his lips against Taeyong’s hip bone, whispering soothing words.

It took a moment of teasing, more surprised gasps and breaths, before Yuta slowly pushed his finger in, eliciting a louder, longer sound of surprise from Taeyong. They stilled for a moment and then Yuta began to fuck him, moving his finger in and out, turning it and curling it inside. Taeyong could come apart with just this.

“More,” Taeyong managed to say once the pleasure began to dull and he wanted to push himself down onto Yuta’s finger.

Yuta removed his finger to add more lube. It was cold and took him by surprise despite expecting it, but when Yuta pushed two fingers in, Taeyong relaxed, a low moan escaping him. Yuta waited, eyes locked on Taeyong, and when Taeyong gave him a slight nod, he began to move again. Yuta’s fingers were thrusting in and out, using a mixture of twisting, curling, and now scissoring. Taeyong clutched at the sheets on either side, back arching as he whined.

A third finger was added and Taeyong’s cock was fully hard again, arching up, the head dripping with precome. It pearled at the tip and then fell onto Taeyong’s stomach, creating a small puddle. When Taeyong arched his back, it moved, running down slowly.

Taeyong reached down and began to stroke himself. Yuta said nothing, only continuing his movements. Only then did Taeyong notice that Yuta’s other hand was over his briefs, the front darker than the rest. The more time went on, the more unstable Yuta’s fingers were. Yuta was beginning to get antsy, his attention wavering. All combined, the actions and sights provided enough pleasure for Taeyong to cry out for Yuta.

“Fuck me,” he called out. “Fuck me, Yuta.”

Yuta stopped, pulling his hand away from himself. He removed his hand from Taeyong as well. It took a moment for him to remove his briefs, his erection curling up to his stomach. Under the soft light, Taeyong could tell it was already red and hot, begging for attention. Moving up a little, Yuta hitched Taeyong’s legs up, pushing the pillow so it rested under Taeyong’s lower back. He hooked Taeyong’s legs over his shoulders. In a clumsy attempt, he ripped open a condom and rolled it on before returning his attention to Taeyong.

“Yellow if it hurts. Red to stop,” Yuta said, voice low and thick.

Taeyong nodded, biting down on his bottom lip. The air was heavy, filled with Yuta’s heavy breathing and rustling of the sheets as he situated himself better. He got closer and then Taeyong felt something press up against him, making him inhale sharply.

Yuta pushed himself in slowly, stilling for a moment. Taeyong shifted, humming when the surprise faded. Yuta moved then.

It was slow and careful but as Taeyong began to let his pleasure be known, Yuta was a bit rougher. His fingers dug into Taeyong’s thighs, nails clawing into his skin, a subtle pain shooting through Taeyong’s body. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud and the only other sounds that matched the volume were Taeyong and Yuta’s moans.

Taeyong could hardly keep his eyes open. He had stopped jerking himself off but brought his hand back, trying to find Yuta’s rhythm to match. When he did, he felt his eyes roll into the back of his head. His other hand fisted at the sheets.

He was the one that came first, his come spurting out hot and white. It fell over his fingers and across his stomach. His back arched, the lowest of moans escaping him. His hold on the sheets grew lax, fingers weakly curling around the white fabric, and he grinded his hips down, humming in delight.

Taeyong let Yuta continue to fuck him, continuing to weakly jerk himself off. He doubted he’d be able to get hard again but it made the pleasure grow tenfold. Yuta was growing frantic in his movements, his rhythm faltering.

After a few stutters, Taeyong felt the warmth and Yuta pushed his cock as far as it could go, grinding his hips against Taeyong, heavy gasps coming from his lips as his chest heaved. He let go of Taeyong’s legs, letting them fall off his shoulders and onto either side of him. Yuta moved out of the space, groaning in slight disgust. He tugged off the condom carefully and tied it up, discarding it somewhere off the bed.

Taeyong wasn’t sure what he expected. Perhaps he expected Yuta to come and lay beside him, pull him close and kiss him again.

But Yuta didn’t. Instead, he got off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. Taeyong saw the light turn on and then heard the shower. Yuta hadn’t said a word.

A bit shocked, Taeyong got up, aware of his come drying on his hand and stomach. He was half-hard but as he searched for something to clean himself up, his cock softened. With a tissue from the box on the nightstand, he wiped himself up, balling up the tissue and finding the small trash can.

He tiptoed to the bathroom, his legs still a bit wobbly from the sex and from the drinking earlier. It took his eyes a second to focus once he stood in the bathroom’s doorway. Yuta was stepping into the shower but he stopped when he saw Taeyong.

“Oh, you can shower after me,” he said. His voice was still thick and a bit hoarse but otherwise, fine.

“After,” Taeyong repeated. An uncomfortable warmth spread over his face and down his neck, blossoming over his chest. Yuta didn’t want Taeyong to shower with him. That meant something, right? Of course. It sent about a million messages to Taeyong. How fucking embarrassing. “Right.”

He stepped away, watching as Yuta stepped into the shower without another glance at him.

This was not what he thought it was.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. How? Why?

Taeyong fumbled in the dark, trying to find his clothes. He found his underwear but they had been soiled so he didn’t put them on. He picked up a pair of jeans he was sure were his and slipped them on. It was uncomfortable without his underwear but that was the last thing on his mind. He needed to get  _ out. _

He left Yuta’s bedroom, moving down the dark hall. He’d lost his shirt somewhere here. After blindly reaching out a few times, he felt it and he grasped the item, bringing it to his chest. He moved to the living room. It was small and still a bit bare. Taeyong stopped by the couch to put on his shirt, feeling sticky and gross.

He wandered to the front door, reaching out to find his jacket. He felt the cool leather and he snatched it up. He was too hot to put it on so he held onto it as he searched for his shoes. His socks were somewhere between here and the bedroom but he didn’t want to go back to find them.

Once he was dressed, he left the apartment, closing the door behind him. The cool April air was refreshing and he took a few deep breaths, holding onto the railing. He closed his eyes, focusing on calming his racing heart. When he was sure he could move again, he took a few shaky steps to the stairs, going down slowly.

He clutched his jacket to his chest, eyes moving side to side. There was no one out. It was late already. Still, Taeyong felt like judgemental eyes gazed upon him in pity.

Taeyong managed to make it to his apartment. It wasn’t all that far from Yuta’s. He had definitely sobered up on his walk, the drunkness leaving to make room for the dread and embarrassment. How could he have done that?

Yuta only wanted…

It made tears form in Taeyong’s eyes.

Tonight was…

Taeyong stopped in front of his apartment door and patted his jean’s pockets but felt nothing. He stuck his hands inside but there was nothing. He felt through his jacket’s pockets but only found his phone. A quiet curse escaped his lips as he let his forehead hit the door, hand weakly grabbing the doorknob.

If Taeyong were someone else, he would’ve seen it. Probably.

Yuta had taken him home like he had taken home others before. That was all.

Taeyong cried. Letting go of the door and turning his back onto it, he fell against it, sliding down until he was sitting. He pulled out his phone, shaking fingers moving to his contacts, calling the only person Taeyong knew wouldn’t let him down.

“Help me,” he cried into the phone when the other line was picked up.

* * *

Doyoung knew when not to ask questions. He was a curious person but not to a fault. Doyoung’s acute awareness to other’s feelings made him someone ideal for a caretaker. More than sympathetic, Doyoung was empathetic. He didn’t need to pity or feel sorry for anyone. He was understanding and able to provide appropriate comfort.

“The towels were just in the drier,” he said.

“Thanks,” Taeyong said.

Doyoung let Taeyong shower, not saying much else. The water was hot and when it began to burn, Taeyong twisted the knob until it was only warm. He stood underneath the spray for a few minutes, eyes closed. He felt the dried sweat and come wash away. But the feeling of Yuta’s lips and hands remained, scalding his skin more than hot water ever could.

Finally, Taeyong scrubbed at his skin. Yet it remained. When he noticed he was scrubbing himself raw, he stopped, allowing the redness on his skin to fade away. There would be no washing it away. A part of Taeyong was angry. He would have to remember the feeling of Yuta over him for the rest of his life, every part of his body pressed against him, and know that he’d never have it again. And the other part of him was pleased, absolutely overjoyed to have experienced it once.

He huffed as he turned off the shower and stepped out. The towels were warm and the clothes Doyoung was lending him were comfortable. He dried his hair as best as he could and discarded his used towels in the hamper.

When he stepped outside, Doyoung was on the couch, feet pulled up to his chest and a blanket around his shoulders. He had a book in his hand and he was wearing his glasses. He looked up at Taeyong, closing the book but leaving one of his fingers in the spot he was reading.

Taeyong knew Doyoung was pretty. If he had never felt anything for Yuta, Taeyong would have surely fallen in love with Doyoung. There was no denying his beauty. It was simple and elegant.

“Tea?” Doyoung asked.

“I’m fine,” Taeyong said, making his way to sit on the other end of the couch. He pulled his legs up, crossing them. “Um, thanks for―uh, for letting me stay tonight.”

“It’s not a problem.” Doyoung opened his book again. He wouldn’t ask questions. “I was a bit surprised but I’m glad to see you’re okay.”

“Yeah.” Taeyong sighed, running his hands through his damp hair. “I just… lost my keys.”

Doyoung hummed. “Unfortunate,” he murmured as he turned the page in his book. “Will you get them back or just replace them?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Replacing them is easier,” Doyoung said. Taeyong watched as he licked his lips. Doyoung finally looked up. Taeyong couldn’t read him. “If you don’t remember where you lost them.”

Taeyong broke eye contact. “Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “I drank a lot tonight. I―it’s not like me.”

“I’ll get you some water,” Doyoung said, closing his book completely and setting it aside. He stretched his legs out over the edge of the couch, his feet hitting the ground with a soft thud, and stood up. “Something for the hangover, too.”

“Thanks.”

Doyoung disappeared into his kitchen and Taeyong sighed, dropping his head back against the back of the couch. His eyes closed. Behind his eyelids, he saw Yuta’s smile. He saw the hungry desire. Was that all it had been?

He almost laughed. Of course it had been. If there was something, anything, else, Yuta would have gone about it differently. Right?

Taeyong wanted to believe so.

Doyoung’s footsteps came back and he heard something being set on the coffee table. A warm body sat beside Taeyong and then slender fingers ghosted along his jaw, tracing from beneath his ear to his chin, holding him with a care Taeyong knew he wouldn’t find anywhere else.

“Are you okay, Taeyong?” Doyoung asked, voice measured and calm.

“Not really, no,” Taeyong answered.

Doyoung’s fingers traveled down and stopped at his chest, laying flat over his sternum. He felt Doyoung close a fist around the fabric and then a slight tug. Plush lips pressed against his cheek in a sweet kiss. They brushed over the corner of his mouth as Doyoung whispered: “Do you want me to make you feel better?”

“Yes,” Taeyong breathed.

Doyoung wasn’t Yuta. They both knew that. Still, Taeyong pretended it was Yuta touching him again. Each kiss he met fervently was Yuta’s. Each touch he matched was Yuta’s. The name he called out again and again was Yuta’s.

Taeyong came undone quickly, much quicker than he usually did with Doyoung. Doyoung didn’t mind. Taeyong made sure Doyoung got off and when they finished, Doyoung stayed close, his chest pressed up against Taeyong’s back, his cock growing soft still inside Taeyong. He kissed along Taeyong’s neck softly, tickling him, and buried his face in Taeyong’s hair, sighing contently.

“His name is Yuta,” Taeyong said.

He’d never mentioned Yuta in detail. The most Doyoung heard about him was during their time together like this. Doyoung was familiar with the name but not the person who carried it.

“Hm, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Doyoung said, a hand coming around his waist and grabbing his hand, fingers locking together. “It’s okay, Taeyong.”

“I went home with him after drinking,” Taeyong said anyway. He felt the tears prickling at his eyes again. “I think it was just a one-night deal.”

“Will you be okay?”

“No.”

Doyoung held onto him a bit tighter. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ll take care of you.”

They showered together. Taeyong didn’t complain about having to shower once again. Sure enough, Doyoung took care of Taeyong. He was gentle as he lathered Taeyong’s body, running the body sponge over his skin. He didn’t wash Taeyong’s hair but he did run his fingers through the wet strands, pushing them aside. Taeyong helped Doyoung, carefully washing his back, running the sponge down his arms and up his chest. When he washed Doyoung’s hair, he began to cry but Doyoung made no comment. Not even when they finished and Taeyong’s eyes remained red and a bit swollen.

“Let’s sleep,” Doyoung said.

He replaced the sheets on the bed and they got on, cuddling together in the dark. The moonlight didn’t filter in once the lights were off. Doyoung had thick curtains to block it out. But it was nice in the dark.

Taeyong tried not to pretend it was Yuta holding him. He was aware it was Doyoung. It would always be Doyoung.

“Mine is named Johnny,” Doyoung said, the darkness swallowing his words. His breath fanned across Taeyong’s face, warm and smelling of mint.

“Johnny,” Taeyong repeated.

“He’s getting married.”

Taeyong sighed and a kiss was pressed to his cheek. He tightened his hold around Doyoung, squeezing his hip. “Don’t worry,” Taeyong whispered, echoing Doyoung’s words from earlier, “I’ll take care of you.”

* * *

Taeyong received a message the morning after.

_ Think you left your keys. Want to get lunch? _

The message went unanswered. Taeyong didn’t have his read receipts on so Yuta would never know he saw the message. He deleted it and after breakfast with Doyoung, he ventured back home, a heavy weight on his shoulders.

His landlord wasn’t pleased when Taeyong found him and asked for a key replacement but after seeing the lock on Taeyong’s apartment, the landlord decided it was time to replace it altogether. Over the afternoon, the key and lock are replaced.

“Don’t lose it,” his landlord said as he handed over the new key.

“Of course, sir.”

In his pocket, a call came through. The phone was on silent and it went unanswered.

Another message.

_ Taeyong, can we talk? About last night… I hope it doesn’t change our friendship. Let’s talk, yeah? _

It went unanswered for days. The next messages that came were left without reply. They all said something similar and after a while, the messages began to blend with each other, making Taeyong anxious when reading them.

The days turned into weeks and there was a hole burning against Taeyong’s skin where his phone usually sat in his pocket. Weeks became months and the chill disappeared, the spring bringing brighter weather.

Taeyong’s social media accounts were left untouched, despite the messages accumulating in his message boxes there. He kept in contact with his friends but only those that didn’t knew Yuta. It was easier this way. 

He threw himself into work and into the arms of comfort, becoming familiar with the way Doyoung said his name and kissed his lips, leaving him breathless. Each exchange was sweet and Taeyong chased the feeling, wanting the fulfillment, even if just for a minute.

Months turn into a year. Yuta stopped trying and it broke Taeyong’s heart but it was for the better. There would be no facing Yuta anymore. Not after that night. It would be impossible for Taeyong to look at Yuta and not wonder about it. It would be impossible to not want to touch him again.

Taeyong had spent years with Yuta and it was hard to let go. But he slowly began to, blocking out late night talks they had and avoiding places they used to frequent. In conversations with his parents, he turned the conversation away from Yuta. After a while, they stopped trying to bring him up.

There are better things to look forward to, Taeyong thought.

His younger brother was coming home. Mark had been away for some time now, completing his second degree in the States. Taeyong had always been close to Mark despite the four year age gap. It was an exciting time and from his conversations with Mark, he had started speaking to someone.

“It’s a bit hard. He lives in South Korea, you know? So, like, we haven’t seen each other much in person,” Mark said.

“Is that so?”

Mark hummed and Taeyong could imagine the smile on his face. “He’s, like… well, he’s closer than you think, bro,” he said. There’s something nervous about his tone. “I mean, we’ve only been talking for, like, a few months, but I think this is serious.”

“Someone I know?”

“Something like that.” Mark waited for a moment. “Do you want to know who it is?”

“Yeah, yeah, tell me,” Taeyong said. Doyoung appeared in the doorway, a towel around his waist. He smiled and Taeyong shifted in his spot over the bed. He pulled the phone away from his ear and mouthed Mark’s name before bringing it back. “Sorry, who is it?”

“Hang up,” Doyoung whispered, coming closer and crawling onto the bed. Taeyong covered the speaker, hoping Mark wouldn’t hear Doyoung or the way Taeyong’s breath caught in his throat when Doyoung kissed the spot right by his ear. “He’s coming home this weekend, right? You can talk then.”

“Bro, you still there?” Mark huffed. “Well, if you’re still listening―oh God, this is weird―but, like, it’s Y―”

Taeyong brought the phone back to his ear, cutting Mark off. “Hey, sorry, I have to go now,” he said, trying to keep his voice leveled, “But you can tell me when you get here as a surprise.”

He cut the call before Mark could respond, taking Doyoung into his arms and falling into the only thing that could make him forget the way Yuta set him aflame once upon a night.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's where to find me and send me messages! [tumblr](https://taeyong-san.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/taeyongsan) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/taeyongsan)


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